Fading Away
by Ms. Mumpsimus
Summary: Summary: When deities are forgotten and no one comes to pray… they fade away.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Fading Away

**Summary:** When deities are forgotten and no one comes to pray… they fade away.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DGM or the tag line of this fic. It's from _Nurarihyon no Mago_. I just used it as an inspiration. Go blame it for this fic's foolishness.

**Warning/s: **Unbeta'ed. Awkward grammar.

**(Kind of) Edited:** August 19, 2012

**Author's Note (08/19/12):** I finally had the time to edit this chapter. Whew! Hope it's much better to read now than before because seriously? I almost cried when I read this chapter again this morning and I found out that you, people, are just putting up with my lame stories and my equally lame writing style. Gah! The grammar is simply atrocious and heck, even the punctuation sucks! I deeply apologize. Well, I couldn't really say that you won't find any mistakes when you read this again but I tried my best and I hope that was enough—for now.

Enjoy.

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_Of all sad words of tongue and pen,_

_the saddest are these:_

_"It might have been."_

John Greenleaf Whittier

..

..

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_When deities are forgotten and no one comes to pray… they fade away._

A life was always something deemed important. And every time someone dear to you was dying, you couldn't help but feel that twisting pain inside of you—the throbbing pain of knowing that soon, you would be left on yourself.

_Did you know that the saddest people are those who were left behind?_

When Alma got sick seven years ago, Kanda did everything he could to help his friend. He didn't believe the doctors when they had said that his friend was going to die sooner or later that year. He didn't believe them—there's no way he could—when he could still see Alma smiling at him.

There was just no way would Alma die and that was what he firmly believed.

He was his only friend, after all.

Someone who didn't judge Kanda when almost everybody forsaken him.

He wouldn't let anyone take him.

Not even Death himself.

So he did everything.

He even did something he doesn't usually do.

Praying.

He found a dilapidated-looking small shrine at the back of Alma's house and although he didn't believe in God, Kanda Yuu prayed at the bottom of his heart—sincerely for the very first time—for his friend's recovery and long life. He prayed although he, himself, didn't pray for anyone before.

Not even for his family.

That's how much he cherished Alma.

He prayed and prayed until his knees gave up on him. Everyday, he would pray until morning and offer fruits and drinks afterwards.

Kanda Yuu didn't believe in God or in any deities but he did continue his every day visits at the small shrine praying for the life of his friend.

It was all he could do after all.

Finally, the winter came.

Cold and harsh wind pounded the trees. Then, after three months, Alma was finally released from the hospital—the doctors were all awed at the miracle that happened before their very eyes.

And why not?

The patient, who was dying from an unknown disease, was cured miraculously.

Then, they thought—

That maybe, God was real, after all.

..

Kanda Yuu didn't believe in any God or deities—but he did when he saw Alma stand from his wheelchair and walked towards him, smiling.

His tears were freely flowing from his eyes.

That day, Kanda dropped on his knees while embracing his friend, thanking whoever heard him from above.

And that very day too, he could swear he heard a voice saying _'thank you for everything, kid'_ echoed in his ears while he was embracing his friend.

Kanda looked up in the sky and stared at the vastness of it.

He thought it was just the wind.

..

But like all the other humans, Kanda forgot all of it like it never happened.

People, when their burdens were lifted from their shoulders, tended to forget.

..

People always, always forget.

Just like Kanda did.

..

Allen was one of the local deities of the town.

He was wearing a white cloak and a hakama with black patterns on his shoulder, his hair, as white as snow, was lazily gliding in the sweeping wind as he stood on a small Sakura tree.

His eyes were gray and he was staring directly at the derelict field where his old shrine stood.

He smiled as he remembered the times when children would go to his shrine and pray for their parents and friends. Such days were the happiest times of Allen's existence.

He was always happy to help.

However, after some times, people stopped praying at him.

It was a rigid proof that the world around him was already changing.

Another was the sudden disappearance of many Gods around the town for the last centuries.

They were all fading away one at a time.

And Allen was slowly being left behind.

And maybe, he thought, that one day, he would disappear, too.

He smiled as he inhaled the fresh air blowing in his stead.

It was such a bliss coming here and though it would pain him to go, he knew that he had to if it was already his time.

Well, he should have already died years ago if not for an adorable kid who surprised him with his unbreakable resolve to save his dying friend.

Allen was already prepared for his long journey ahead when a kid, furiously running towards his shrine, suddenly appeared before him. He was terribly shaking and his hands were clasped so tight you could almost see his protesting veins. He was praying so hard that Allen's almost deteriorating spiritual power suddenly augmented and it made him grasp on his earthly existence again, enabling him to stay on his shrine for a few more years.

He was dumbfounded and shocked.

Because of the kid, he was again allowed to help—

In which Allen gladly did.

He stared at the trembling kid kneeling on his shrine and smiled as patted his head.

Allen, for the first time in years, smiled widely again.

For three months, Allen had seen the kid's strong desire for his friend's recovery. He would stay for hours and hours and hours and he would come back every day to pray in front of his shrine.

Why he chose his shrine, Allen didn't know.

But he was grateful.

And happy.

While watching the kid whispering prayers in front of him, he couldn't help but think that if he ever wanted a human friend, he would wanted him to be just like this kid.

Someone who was pure and kind.

Someone who cherished a friend more than a family would.

But sadly, after months of being happy with the kid's company, Allen knew that everything had to end.

Slowly, the visits were getting fewer and fewer until one day, the visitations stopped altogether.

Allen smiled albeit knowing that he was, again, left behind, just like before.

After a few years, his shrine slowly ebbed away. The trees and grasses surrounding his small temple grew larger and larger until it hidden him from the rest of the world.

The family living in front of his small shrine that used to take care of his small temple went somewhere far, far away and Allen knew, with all the pain he was feeling inside, that they would never come back for him again.

People had long ago forgotten about him.

The world was slowly changing. Prayers were no longer being chanted by people's hearts. People did no longer believe at any God's existence, dwindling the time they spent at the shrines.

That saddened the local deity.

Allen would very much like to hear people's prayers again.

He closed his eyes and breathed the calming wind circling him.

'_At least before I finally fade away…'_

Cold breeze caressed his skin, making him smile once more.

'_For the last time.'_

..

Kanda was walking home from the university. He was now a third year college student taking a course he had chosen alongside Alma who was now taking up medicine at T-university. They were still friends and Kanda was happy that the man finally found the right girl for him.

And this gave Kanda a new reason to tease his best friend. The constant blushing of the man never failed to amuse him.

Kanda would just laugh.

Alma had already found someone.

But Kanda remained single.

He never did once he looked at other woman before.

Maybe he was not just interested.

Or maybe he was just too busy with his study that's why he never noticed anyone before.

That didn't alarm him though and despite the constant nagging of his professors and some friends about courting a girl or being present on _gouko_ns* in which he just gladly brushed off, laughing, he remained alone for the rest of his college life.

He then concluded that he was just comfortable being alone, and that nothing was wrong with wanting to be on his own.

He was better off by himself anyway.

He gently kicked a small rock on the road and he smiled to himself. Maybe he would adopt a kid someday. He would raise him as a good man and he would give him a good education. His parents might refuse at first, but eventually, he knew that they would heed.

It was what he wanted and that, he believed, was the most important in deciding his future.

He was too busy thinking that he didn't notice a light that was suddenly lit somewhere inside the forest not far away from where he stood.

Before he knew it, his feet was already moving on their own, dragging him to the source of the light, pulling him to walked faster than he usually do.

"What the hell—" he exclaimed, too shocked to say anymore than that.

When he was finally near it, the glowing suddenly stopped.

And instead of bunch of fireflies that Kanda was expecting at first, he saw a young man that probably had the same age as him, sitting on a Sakura tree not far away from the blinding light he saw a while ago.

He was wearing some weird cloak that was clinging on his small waist and an old fashioned _hakama_ dropping on his shoulders.

The man stirred when he heard Kanda's footstep and turned to face him.

Kanda probably didn't allow himself to breathe that time.

His hair was ridiculously white and he had the most beautiful face Kanda had ever seen in his entire life.

The man's face in side view wasn't even on par with his face facing upfront.

He was more gorgeous now. His complexion was rather unusually pale, and he was leaner than any male he had seen.

_Skinny._

_Almost as skinny as a rat_—

But was equally devastating and hauntingly beautiful.

Ash-colored eyes bathing in the gleam glow of the moon stared directly at Kanda.

For the first time on his life, Kanda was rendered speechless.

"You can see me?" The mysterious man spoke and Kanda had to gather himself to answer.

And he couldn't believe what he just did.

He scowled.

"At least you know you're short, kid," Kanda managed to answer rather cockily, hiding the fast beating of his goddamn heart.

_Shit. Stop, will you?_

The white-haired man seemed not to understand it at first.

Short?

_You are so short I almost didn't see you…_

Kanda saw him frowned when he finally understood the sharp remark.

He looked enraged.

Kanda almost winced.

_Me and my big, goddamn mouth!_

"I am not short!" he shouted, his beautiful face was contorted in an unusual display of anger. "And I am a not a _kid_, stupid."

Kanda felt his eyebrow at the last words. "You certainly look like a kid to me and do not call someone you just met _'stupid_', stupid."

"You're one to talk. You also called me stupid just now, right?"

"You called me stupid _first_, so it doesn't count."

The pale man glowered at him, making him cuter in Kanda's eyes.

He almost smacked himself for thinking that way.

"Why am I even talking to you?" the beautiful stranger said as he hopped off the tree and walked away from him.

Kanda felt himself panicking. Name, address, mobile number… anything.

_Ask!_ _You piece of shit, ask!_

"Wait!"

The white-haired man stopped and turned his head to him.

"What?" he said annoyed.

"What's your name?" Kanda swallowed as he tried to sound uncaring as possible.

"Why would you want to know?"

"Because I'll call you Bean sprout if you don't state your true name to me. You wouldn't want that, right?"

Kanda almost smirked when he saw a healthy shade of red crawled on the man's pale neck up to his face.

Perfect.

"SHUT UP!"

Kanda just waved his hand in the air.

"My name's Kanda by the way," he shouted.

"I could care less about your name, rude stranger."

..

Since then, Kanda would always go to up to that mountain and he would always _accidentally_ meet the man with strange clothes.

They would spend their entire time bickering with each other.

The beautiful stranger would always ask him what he was doing in the middle of the mountain every afternoon just so he could spite him by calling him names.

Kanda was, at first, loss on what he should say. From the lack of a better excuse, he just said that the steep forest was his newly discovered short cut to his home.

It was a downright lie, of course, but there was no way he would let the stranger know that.

He would rather die than be shamed like that.

Every afternoon, they would ask each other many trivial things—despite their obvious annoyance (as what they had always declared every chance they got) for each other—favorite foods, favorite books, and even the sudden brightness of the moon.

Every day, Kanda would bring the white-haired man _yakitori_ and dumplings because he seemed to like those more than cakes and candies.

It was fun to see the short man drooled when being offered with food.

He was just like a kid.

Kanda would always tease him rather fondly, a glint of happiness was radiating in his eyes.

Then there were nights that he would find the bean sprout sleeping on that particular branch of tree where he first saw him sitting, his hair was draping on his face—it was a picture of innocence and purity.

Before he knew it, his hands were now unconsciously wandering on that beautiful face and he admitted to himself that those were the times that his hands were just plainly refusing to listen to his brain.

That he didn't really want to do that but he could do nothing because his mind wanted it.

Yeah. What a fucked up reasoning.

Then, there were those times that Kanda would just let his hands do what they want—no matter how wrong it seemed.

The victim was always the strange man's ivory-colored hair.

But whenever the stranger stirred on his sleep, the stubborn hand would automatically retreat and would be back the second if it sensed that the white haired man was again peacefully sleeping.

Kanda would just slump his shoulder, relieved.

..

These last few days, Kanda couldn't help but be bothered.

He noticed that the man was somehow getting more and more translucent each day.

He didn't even know how to explain it.

He couldn't even make himself believe that it was just the moonlight and the fact that the man was just unnaturally pale was making him looked like he was disappearing.

He was there but it was as if he was beginning to be semi-transparent—like that of a ghost. Kanda inquiring about this earned an earful of laughter from the white-haired man whose name was still a mystery to him. He was laughing so hard that Kanda couldn't help but smile at the lively sound he was emitting.

It made him feel so alive.

And at the same time, he felt so stupid in thinking that there was something wrong with him.

But it made him happy, nevertheless.

"Che," Kanda snorted while the man was still busy using his laugh box. "Stop laughing, Bean sprout."

"But you're amusing! You think I'm becoming a ghost?" he said as he sent himself again at another round of laughter.

"I didn't say anything about you being a ghost," he retorted, his lips were tucked.

"Sensitive, aren't we, Kanda?" he exclaimed, his snickers could be heard echoing in the forest.

Kanda smiled. It was a bliss watching him happily laughing like he never seen him laugh before.

He was so relieved.

He had never been this happy before. Not even around Alma.

That was kinda… strange, he reckoned. But he embraced it wholeheartedly.

"Shut up, moyashi."

..

Allen knew that his time was up.

Of course he knew.

He could feel the steadfast deterioration of his powers and instead of staying at his shrine to conserve his energy, he decided to spent his remaining time with a funny, but sometimes obnoxious, fellow he met at the feet of the mountain three months ago.

It was amusing that he couldn't be around any longer just when he finally found someone he could talk to, after years and years of being alone.

Because being alone for such a long time was sad… and painful—even for someone like Allen.

That's why he became happy when _that_ particular kid came to him and prayed for months for his friend's welfare.

Come to think of it, that kid spent three months with Allen before, too—just like the time _this_ strange human spent on him.

Allen would definitely miss him.

This world—and all the other things he had known for a long, long time—would be terribly missed.

Allen smiled.

And those _yakitori_ and dumplings, too, he mused.

..

Kanda was panting.

He was late that day and he was running like a madman, trying to reach that place at a quicker pace. He wanted to see that person again today. Maybe this night, he would finally give him his name and Kanda would playfully call it, and he was sure that the beautiful stranger would be yelling at him again.

He chuckled as he thought of many possible things that could happen that night.

He saw the man sitting again on the Sakura tree and Kanda looked up, ready to tease the white-haired man—ready to see him smiles again.

But instead of happiness, a wide cloak of panic and alarm wrapped Kanda's whole being as he stared at the white haired man before him.

_He was there but it was as if he was beginning to be semi-transparent__—__like of that a ghost._

"_But you are amusing! You think I'm becoming a ghost?"_

"Your body…" he murmured as he stared at him. He was just like an apparition now. The pale skin was so much insipid that Kanda could almost see the tree behind him. "What happened to you?"

He stared at the figure above him and panic was washing his heart. "Oi, Bean sprout!" He yelled again, terror and so much more was copulating in his voice.

The man just smiled at him and sighed. "I told you it's not bean sprout, idiot," he said.

Kanda desperately shouted for a conversation. Something was wrong here. He was sure that something was wrong to the man.

He could feel it.

That nagging feeling of twisting pain on his chest. Just like when he first learned that Alma was going to die soon.

And yet… this pain… was entirely different from what he felt when it was Alma. This was much, much excruciating.

So much he thought he could die from it.

What was it?

What was this?

"What's your name, then? If you don't want to be called a bean sprout, then tell me your name."

Kanda knew that something was wrong.

The man smiled at him. "Since you're so persistent, I shall present you my name," he exclaimed, faking a cough. "It's Allen, BaKanda."

Kanda swallowed as he watched the pale man looked up to the sky.

"What an ugly name..." He tried to be rough but his voice was betraying him.

Allen didn't retort back, and instead, he looked earnestly on him for the first time.

There was something agonizingly heartrending in Allen's eyes, as if he was trying to say something to him, without really saying it.

"Nee, Kanda…"

"Yeah?" he answered as he slowly walked towards Allen. Kanda could feel his heart beating so fast and he didn't like the cold sensation wrapping his soul.

It was fear and something more ominous.

"Do you know that when deities are forgotten and no one comes to pray… they fade away?"

Kanda stopped.

"N-no… I didn't know," he whispered, his eyes were never leaving the man. He was afraid that when he blinked, Allen was just going to disappear.

Allen smiled again, his lips quivered.

"I'm fading away tonight, Kanda."

That completely froze him.

What?

Another odd smile again.

Kanda hated that peculiar smile.

"W-what the fuck are you s-saying?"

"I'm saying that I will be gone by tomorrow morning. Or maybe tonight..."

Kanda's eyebrows furrowed. "You'll be leaving this town?"

Allen chuckled. "No."

Frustration crawled to Kanda. "Then what?"

Kanda felt that those melancholy eyes were, again, trying to speak to him.

"It means I'll _vanish _tonight, stupid," Allen said.

A heavy wind blew in their direction, gracefully lifting the fallen Sakura flowers on the ground, making them danced in the sky.

"What?" Kanda shouted, his fists were clenched on his sides. "What do you m-mean?"

Allen breathed and closed his eyes. "Thanks. You're so much fun that I've completely forgotten about my time."

"Don't bullshit me!"

Allen opened his eyes and saw Kanda staring at the ground. His whole body was awfully trembling.

Allen's smile grew fainter.

The truth was Allen didn't want to go.

But unlike that first time Kanda somehow saved his existence—this time, there was nothing that could prevent his fate.

He already stayed here for so long... and he knew that someday, he would have to let everything go.

Allen knew that sooner or later he would have to let go of this world.

People no longer believed in the likes of him.

And being alone was as painful as being forgotten.

Allen didn't want that.

Besides, Kanda was a human.

Humans were capable to forget.

Unlike him.

And that what makes it more painful.

That was what hindering Allen to move on.

To let go.

Allen hopped down from the Sakura tree and walked towards Kanda, the crying kid who saved him years ago.

He was so tall now.

So unlike the small, but feisty, kid he was before.

That crying, innocent kid.

_"Thank you for everything, kid,_" he whispered, almost to himself.

But Kanda heard everything.

His eyes widened.

Those words…

He looked up and something dreadful washed over him. Allen was there in front of him but his body was painfully translucent now.

"Allen!"

He dropped his bag and ran to him.

"It was not wind! I knew it! It was you!" He shouted as he gripped the fading hands. "You're the one who cured Alma! You're that God at the shrine back then!"

Allen pulled his lips into an another odd smile and Kanda felt crushing those lips to his. "Uhm… yeah?" He gently laughed as he tugged Kanda's hands away from him. "You know, you saved me back then. I was also at the verge of fading away that time… then you came…" Allen tilted his head to his side. "…crying and clasping your hand, praying for the life of your friend. It somehow brought me back."

Kanda trembled.

It was Allen.

That's why he felt different around him.

That was why… why… he felt so comfortable to be with…

It was… Allen.

Kanda only tightened his grip. "I just have to pray, right? Then everything is going to be alright? You won't have to leave!"

Kanda watched as Allen's eyes widened only to smile sadly again_—_his beautiful face was twisting in pain.

Trepidation wrapped up Kanda.

Somehow, he understood.

"M-maybe, there is still something we can do! Anything, please," he cried, his heart was aching so horribly by the sudden realization that Allen had answered his prayers and saved Alma but he could not save him.

He watched Allen forced a smile on his face again.

"Stop smiling you, idiot Bean sprout! This is not funny!"

But the smile didn't disappear. Allen wanted to see him smiling until the very end, that Kanda knew, and it was making it more painful to him.

He didn't want Allen to go…

Please, anything… He would do anything.

"I'm so happy I met you, BaKanda. You're amusing," he said.

Right then, Kanda allowed himself to do something he was always dying to do ever since that day he first met Allen on the Sakura tree that afternoon.

He kissed him.

He felt those cold lips meeting his, and for a moment, Kanda thought he was kissing the wind.

Then, just like that, Allen was gone_—_

He left him behind.

..

Everybody was important.

Even that single twig lying on the ground_—_

Or that particular bird singing at the top of its lungs_—_

Or the annoying voice of your favorite merchant.

Everything was important.

Especially someone's life.

When someone dear to you was dying, you couldn't help but feel that twisting pain inside your chest banging your soul, ripping your heart apart. And you couldn't help but swallow the rotten truth that even if you're willing to do anything to help that person, all you could do was to watch him/her slowly slip by and feel the throbbing pain of being uncertain about tomorrow.

_Did you know that the saddest people are those who were left behind?_

Because they have to be with their usual surrounding, their usual routines, and the only change was the absence of the one who had left them.

"_Nee, Kanda… Did you know that when deities are forgotten and no one comes to pray… they fade away?"_

_._

_._

_._

**Note:** *Group dating.

**Author's Note (04/03/11):** I wrote this in one sitting, as unbelievably as it sounds since I am naturally too lazy to write this long. One hour, people. Tsk. I was just watching an episode of _Nurarihyon no Mago_ where a deity was trying to help the protagonist's classmate… and next thing I knew, I was bawling like an idiot, pausing the episode, and opening my MSWord. I just felt that if I would wait until tomorrow to write this fic, the outcome would be entirely different. That's how I write—I always let my emotions get the better of me. Maybe I'll re-write this tomorrow—or add something at the ending. Or maybe not. I dunno. For today, I think this was enough.

I would also like to explain the timeline of this story. I want to emphasize that Allen was a God here and therefore his definition of time was very different by Kanda. Allen perceived human years just like hours and therefore, ten years could be very short for him. This was why he didn't instantly disappear when kid Kanda stopped going to his shrine and this is also the reason why he didn't recognize Kanda right away the first time he met him at the Sakura tree that fateful afternoon.

Thanks for reading...


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything. I don't even own a brain. Go buy me one.

**Warning/s**: UNBETA'ed. Bad grammar.

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..

Chirping of the birds was much louder today, Kanda unconsciously thought as he passed through the raining petals of Sakura trees lined up in the street.

He sighed as he continued his dawdling steps. Clutching his bag tighter, he tried not to think about the new season that seemed to be mocking him, albeit indirectly.

It was the start of Spring.

You didn't have to look far to see signs of it. From the budding of the trees and the warming of the temperatures to the animals coming out of their winter hideouts, there seemed to be a promise of new birth and color in the springtime air.

Exactly three years ago after Allen left him.

Kanda stopped in front of small shrine and kneeled to see how much cleaning it needed today. He grabbed the small dust feather on his bag and started dusting the dirt and fallen leaves on it. A gentle wind was blowing on his face and somehow, Kanda felt serenity engulfing him slowly. The leaves of the springtime was still dancing in the air as if it was following a certain lovely tune of earth, coloring the lively picture of nature and making more radiant and divine.

People distant chattering can be heard echoing in the hushed and solitary space surrounding the small shrine. Kanda lifted his hands to touch the cold marble and he breathed slowly, knowing that somehow, being close to this place was also being close to Allen. The Deity God lived here for a thousand years after all. Or maybe much longer than that, Kanda will probably never know anymore. He already lost that opportunity when he let Allen disappeared right in front of him.

He bowed his head and gathered his hands into his chest and slowly closed his eyes. He knew that this place was already void of its deity, an empty reminder of what might had been to Kanda. However, it didn't stopped him from praying here again, never faltering to come every afternoon right after his work from a nearby publishing house. The shrine's location actually served as an important factor to Kanda in considering where he will work after college. He rejected a lot of top brass companies offering him a huge pay check every month, but Kanda never hesitated to turn them down because of one simple reason: He had to be near Allen's shrine in every way possible.

Kanda needed to be near his presence, even if the said presence was no longer there. He needed anything closed to Allen to sooth the unfading pain still throbbing on his chest.

He silently said his prayers in the middle of merging warm and cold air, as he tried to remembering the deity's gentle smiles and haughty remarks whenever he would try to tease him – his prayers still expressing the same silent plea to whomever other gods listening to him out there, relentlessly praying until he felt the heaven's ears bleeding to his never-ending longing – to be with Allen again and this time, for all eternity.

..

..

..

"…and know what? He's British but he loves Japanese foods!"

A mass of giggling writers came rushing from the cafeteria that morning. Kanda grunted inwardly as he walked towards his usual sit, which always remained vacant in Kanda's amusement. Well, not that he was complaining or something.

He sat and put his tray at the table as he eyed the horde of female writers of their publishing company, trying to somehow transmit his annoyance at their constant giggling. Their squeaking was reminding Kanda of those cheap car cleansers.

Annoying.

He sighed and gritted his teeth in trying to contain the bubbling anger dangerously sparkling on his chest and instead pep talked his self to focus on his meal instead than to waste his lunch break on stupid and energy-sapping annoyance around him.

"… cute too! Kyaa! He was very polite to Mr. Humimura, right? His accent was so great, I almost thought he was a Japanese himself!"

"How old is he anyway?"

"I don't have a slightest idea. But he looks so young, ne?"

"Maybe he just graduated from college?"

"Ehhhh…."

_Tch. That makes you a cradle snatcher, hag._

Kanda bit his sandwich rather harshly. He ended up biting his tongue a little too hard that aggravated his annoyance even more. This was a freaking cafeteria! This place was for eating, not for nonsense gossips.

"But he was so cute, don't you all think?"

"YEAH..."

Kanda almost wanted to roll his eyes. This was exactly why he hated women.

"And he loves yakitori! He said it himself! Oh… I love yakitori too… We're obviously soul mates… Maybe we were lovers before and we were separated by unfortunate events and he's coming back now… to claim me again. Kyaaa!"

A flood of retaliation echoed inside the cafeteria. Violent reactions swarmed in the air and the other regular employees eating inside were now beginning to get annoyed by the crowd.

But Kanda was no longer listening.

"_Oi, bean sprout."_

_The white haired young man turned his head slowly towards him and Kanda could cleary see that his eyes were already seething with annoyance. _

"_Yo, bean sprout." He repeated the nick name again as he sat near the tree trunk where Allen was sitting._

"_Didn't I already tell you NOT TO CALL ME BEAN SPROUT?"_

_Kanda inwardly chuckled but didn't reply. Instead, he opened his bag and took out a huge bento. _

"…_What's that?"_

_Kanda stared impassively to the sprout. "It's obviously a bento box, idiot."_

_He saw him gritted his teeth and Kanda couldn't help but take notice of the small man supple lips. _

"_I know it's a bento box, BaKanda."_

_A twitched was seen dancing on his eyebrows, temporarily halting him from enjoying his view. _

_Thanks, nick name._

"_I dare you repeat that, moyashi."_

_An unusual evil smirk laced the usual gentle-looking face. _

"_Ba-Ka-n-da."_

"…"

"_BA-KA-N-DA?"_

"…"

"_Bakandaaaaaaa!"_

_A vein was seen snapped on Kanda's forehead. "Okay. That's it. You're so dead, moyashi."_

_A long, mocking 'pbbbt' came flowing on the short man's lips. The beautiful bastard was snickering while trying to close his damn mouth – clearly trying to piss Kanda more. _

_Kanda trudged towards the still laughing man and caught his shoulders, his face was moving dangerously close to that beautiful face. The white-haired yelped and stared at him, lips were treacherous and slightly opened, making Kanda winced on his abrupt action._

_He was so damn enticing. _

_So damn enticing that he was getting very excited and he could feel his heart beating much faster than usual. _

_Before he lose himself to his thoughts and do something he might regret for the rest of his life, Kanda smacked the man's head, albeit gently. He slowly distance himself to now crouching albino head and made his way to his bag sprawled across the grass. _

"_Ouch! That hurts, you brute!" _

"_Serves you right, moyashi."_

_The moyashi huffed and Kanda swore he saw him pout. _

'_Oh, shit… I'm losing it… I'm losing it...'_

"_You're unfair, you know that? You kept on calling me, 'moyashi', 'moyashi'," he was now comically mimicking him, much to Kanda's amusement, "but you're getting pissed when I'm calling you names!"_

"_Because I have a name so you have to use it. So it's different."_

"_How so? You are so unfair and…" Kanda had to look up when he heard him trailed off as if something distracted him._

_The albino head was now eyeing the now opened bento box._

"_What's that?"_

_The adorable moyashi was blinking curiously at the contents of the lunch box. _

"_Oi, Kanda."_

_Kanda bowed his head to hide the forming smile on his face. _

"_It's yakitori."_

"_What's that?"_

"_Grilled chicken."_

"_Oohh." Allen peeked inside the box again. "You cooked it?"_

"_Yes." Kanda answered, not really paying attention to the question. He was now arranging the yakitoris in a disposable platter. _

_Maybe he should have brought his homemade seasoning… Damn soy sauce… _

"_You cooked it for me?"_

_Kanda halted._

_He saw Allen curiously staring at him, waiting for his answer. _

_Kanda gulped and immediately cursed himself for pausing a little too long._

"_It's leftover, stupid. Leftover."_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything. Just the bowl.

Unbeta'ed.

* * *

><p>Fucking noisy.<p>

"_He's not moving, is he?"_

"_I think he's kind of dreaming."_

"That_ Kanda is dreaming? In the middle of the afternoon? Are you serious?"_

Shut the fuck up, will you?

"_Look at him. His eyes are open, well, kinda, but it seems like he can't see us."_

"_Yeah..."_

"_**Yuu-pon is daydreaming? As in?" **_

_Despite the drowsiness he was feeling, Kanda knew who the owner of the diabolically annoying voice was. _

You want to die, Baka-usagi? I guess you really have a death wish, no?

"_Don't leave us like that, Yuu-pon!"_

_Kanda gritted his teeth. _

_He was dreaming of something so wonderful then these people just had to destroy it. Seriously. Can't a man dream in peace?_

_He closed his eyes again as he remembered Allen. How beautiful he was. How warm his company was..._

_Then suddenly, Kanda felt something struck him on his head. Something hard – and it fucking hurt, mind you._

_He opened his eyes and all he could see was darkness._

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..

All of the people inside the cafeteria stopped when a certain bowl landed on a certain face – head, actually – and suddenly, all of the noises inside seemed to wither away to nowhere. The noisy group of women excitingly chattering on a corner of the canteen suddenly stopped talking. Few people were now scampering to get out of the building as if they were afraid of something. A few sweated heavily, not really having enough energy on their knees to dash because it was too late to be running by now.

Kanda Yuu was already awake and it was the end of the world. They all knew it. Who didn't? Kanda Yuu was an infamous employee after all. Everybody knew him and aparently scared of the handsome young man. Even the big bosses of the company seemed to be anxious of him, but because he was such a _tensai_ when it comes to what he does, they couldn't do anything about his twisted personality.

The cafeteria became colder and colder as if someone blasted the air-conditioning system.

There was someone who _threw _a freaking bowl onto Kanda Yuu's regal face!

"Urgghh..."

Everybody back away. No one really wanted to be the center of the man's rage.

"What... what the fuck is this?" Kanda asked in a muffled voice and if only they weren't already pissing at their pants and skirts because of so much trepidation, they would probably all be laughing bynow because of what they were seeing.

Kanda Yuu, the high and mighty _tensai_ editor of their company, had a bowl for a mask.

_Pbbfftt._

But to the horror of almost everyone inside the cafeteria, somebody _did_ laugh.

It was Lavi.

And before they could pummel their ever-insensitive fellow co-worker for a colossal mistake (and because they weren't really hoping for bloodshed right now), a voice suddenly echoed in the tense cafeteria, that made some heads turned.

"I am so sorry! I didn't mean it. The bowl slipped away! I am really, really sorry."

They saw a young man, probably on his early twenties, clad in formal suit, running towards the danger zone. His hair was unbelievably white and his skin was extremely pale.

The women blinked. They momentarily forgot Kanda and his demonic outburst and they all screamed in delight when they saw who it was.

The foreigner guy! They all squealed.

"Oh my gosh! It's him! It's him! My soul mate!"

"Shut up, hag! He's mine! What makes you think that she's yours when you can't even speak decent English?"

"Shut your trap! He's mine! And it doesn't matter if I can't speak in English because he knows Japanese! Are you stupid?"

"You're the stupid one, you crone!"

"Ugly!"

"Scrofulous woman!"

Kanda removed the thing on his face that was hindering him to see and he almost threw it to the two equally ugly women who dared hurl insults to each other and get offended as if their faces weren't worthy of the insults.

Kanda's head throbbed. He could a huge lump slowly forming on the left part of his head.

It hurt.

Wait a fucking –

Oh yeah. There was something hard on his face a while ago, right? It woke him up for good. He looked at his hand that was still holding the 'something hard' thingy.

A vein popped into his forehead.

It was a bowl.

What was a fucking bowl doing on his face?

Kanda was now ready to kill anybody on his line of sight. Seriously. This bowl could kill someone. Hell, It could have killed him. Who was fucker that had thrown this to him, anyway?

He scratched his head. It fucking hurt, really.

Kanda stood up and everybody flinched.

The two women arguing stopped on their tracks and stared at the long haired man walking in their direction. He was emitting a strange, dark aura on him.

"Who the fuck threw this?" Kanda said in a low voice. He was holding the bowl as he continued walking towards the now trembling humans.

Kanda heard a silent grunt on his back.

"It's me. I am so sorry. I didn't mean it. It slipped on my fingers and before I knew it, it was already flying at your direction," said a gentle voice.

Kanda remained motionless, not even turning back to see who the brave man was. He was pissed beyond control now. He had a book that was due this afternoon and the printing press was already pissing him off to no end to deliver it to their office because they, too, have a deadline that they had to follow.

Like it was his fucking fault.

Some fucker (aka writer) decided to pass his manuscript late and the result? A colossal pain in a butt like this.

He hadn't even sleep for almost two days now because of that project. And now, his small nap was destroyed because of this fucking bowl that just had to land onto his face. Fucking great.

"You've got a death wish or something?" He dangerously murmured and everyone inside the cafeteria tensed. Kanda Yuu was serious. He wasn't going to let an incident like this slip right through his fingers.

He wasn't branded as a demon inside the company for nothing.

The handsome foreigner was now on the verge of death!

With a precise movement, Kanda swiftly turned around when he received no reply. He was ready to beat the hell out of the cretin when his eyes caught that familiar silvery white hair.

Kanda's eyes widened. His heart suddenly raced on his chest and his knees trembled. But he couldn't stop his body and hands anymore. He was going to hit the person who had that mop of white hair.

It was going to hit him right on his face!

_Shit!_

"Dodge, you fucking idiot!" He shouted, hoping – _praying_ – that his sudden twist and words made it on time.

He didn't know if the man really did attempt to dodge or what.

Then Kanda heard an ugly sound and he knew the Gods didn't answer his plea.

"Hurry! Get a medic!" He shouted as he scooped the idle body on the floor. His eyes were glued to the man's face and to the ugly and bloody bruise on the left side of his eyes.

_Fuck!_

Why was it that his prayers were being ignored?

"Hurry!"

Why?

* * *

><p>..<p>

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**Author's Notes**: And another disappointing cliffy. T_T I hate myself. I hate me. I so hate me. You wanna kill me? Don't worry, I'll do that myself. You don't have to get your hands dirty.

Thanks a lot for those who reviewed... *bows* and I am so sorry for this update. I intend to end this fic with this chapter but then... things happened. Maybe I'll post another chapter in the future then that'll end this sucky fic. *sigh* I just finished watching No. 6 last three days ago and I'm blaming that for my depression right now.

I'm currently trying to find my brain. It ran away _again_.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DGM and the song, 'Angel of Mine'.

**Warnings:** As usual, no Beta... therefore, awkward grammar.

**Author's Notes:** This was getting longer and looonger... I don't know how to bloody stop now. T_T Thanks for those people who reviewed this! I love you guys! Sorry to have you kept waiting for so long... *hides*

**(January 6, 2012)**_ kinda _edited. I read it again yesterday and I cursed myself when I noticed a bazillion errors. I kinda added some scenes too... So, if you want, you can read it again...)

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_When I first saw you I already knew__  
><em>There was something inside of you<em>  
><em>Something I thought that I would never find<em>  
><em>Angel of mine<em>_

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Kanda knew it was stupid. Him, punching _him_.

"Shit..." he cursed as he watched a white haired young man struggled into consciousness on his arms. Kanda was holding a wet towel that someone handed him and he had been wiping the sweating angelic face beneath him since fifteen minutes ago. They were slumped on the floor and everybody inside the cafeteria was watching the two with bulging eyes and mouth hanging wide open.

"Hrgh..." Allen moaned and Kanda cringed at the sound of it.

Shitshitshitshit.

The punch was not that strong, however, he could tell from all the wincing the white haired man had been doing, that the punch _did_ hurt him.

Kanda wanted to bang his head on the nearest chair.

However, despite the current situation at hand, Kanda couldn't help but shiver in delight. Allen was here, right beside him, and he could hold him. He wasn't some kind of ghostly apparition and he definitely could feel the warm feeling radiating from his body.

Kanda was about to pinched himself when Lavi suddenly emerged from the thick crowd and knelt down beside him.

"Whoah... You punched him hard enough, Kanda. Look at that bruise. It's gonna be there for a while, I'm sure," said the red haired, his eyes were on Allen. "And he's kind of cute, huh."

Kanda immediately asserted his position and blocked Lavi's view with his body. He glared at him for a while then hissed when something–someone tried to hold Allen's arms.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

The startled male nurse stepped back. "You c-called a medic, right?" said the poor young man whose eyes were wide and terrified. Kanda let go of Allen's body but didn't cease his glaring at the male nurse.

Everybody watched Kanda 'tsked' as he continued to murder the nurse with his glares.

Lavi was aghast on what Kanda was displaying.

"T-That was Yuu, right?" He asked his friends, sharing the same look of surprise they had on their faces. "That was Yuu, right?" He repeated it again, as if asking the same question twice wasn't enough.

"Y-Yeah... I think s-so?" One answered from his back but Lavi didn't even try to look who it was. His eyes were still fixated on the back of his known unyielding friend, Kanda, who for the first since he met him, showed care and interest towards someone he barely know.

..

..

..

He was dreaming.

Again.

Allen sighed at his usual dream and looked around. It was the same place. An old backyard of an old building where a small shrine was residing.

It actually looked familiar.

Oddly familiar.

He remained standing in front of the shrine when suddenly a bright light surfaced from somewhere that suddenly covered the whole place. The next thing he knew, a long-haired young man was already kneeling in front of the shrine, uttering silent prayers that never did once reach his ears.

Then, Allen realized that the man couldn't see him.

He would always stare at the kneeling man and for some weird reason; Allen couldn't help but fixate his eyes on him, watching him light incense and stay for hours at the small shrine. Allen, for a lack of better things to do, would always end up sleeping beside him; his head was comfortably leaning on the man's back without him knowing.

Sometimes, Allen would find himself staring at his long blue-black hair, wishing he could touch it with his hands.

Sometimes, Allen would see him staring at him with his intense eyes showing immense loneliness and longings and Allen couldn't help but be embarrassed and blushed but he soon learned that the stares weren't really meant for him, and that the long haired man was just staring blankly at space.

The dream started invading his nights when he first stepped at Japan, his grandfather's country. Walker's had long been in publishing business that his grandfather first started, then, migrated to United Kingdom where he married his grandmother who was also a Japanese. Four years would pass and after all the struggles their family went through, the world had finally recognized the Walker's Publishing Company and immediately became famous for printing bestselling books that gathered many readers all over the world. While Allen didn't really have anything against his family's business, he vividly expressed his disinterest in handling it in the future to his father and he made sure that Mana understood his point when they talked about it three years before he graduated in college. He wanted to pursue music and Mana was well-aware of it.

Mana never hindered Allen in taking music courses, but he had always been edgy in letting his beloved son in an unknown world, though music wasn't as foreigner to them as they claim it to be. Allen's mother used to be a pianist but died after giving birth to him. She was a British beauty and this was where Allen's European ancestry came from.

Allen was suddenly startled when the man moved away and walked towards the dilapidated shrine.

Allen looked at his pained form; his heart was longing to ease the throbbing hurt that was sprawled in front of him.

He watched him knelt again beside the shrine, his face was hidden by his long tresses.

And after sometime, he heard him uttered a name he never thought he would hear coming from the mysterious man of his dream;

Allen's eyes widened in stun when he heard the man say his name.

"_Allen..."_

Beneath the breezy afternoon, Allen tried to reach out to him, his hand were outstretched under the clear, blue sky.

He was so close, and yet, Allen couldn't help but feel that what he was seeing was a mere fragment of his muddled past.

"_Allen..."_

..

..

..

"Allen!"

Allen abruptly opened his eyes. Then, clutched his head.

Bloody hell. His head hurt so much.

He tried to look around but all he could see was the color white.

Was he dead?

He remembered being spanked on the face. A fast right hook, to be precise and then, what? What happened after that?

"W-what happened?" He asked, his head was still disoriented. He knew that someone was clutching his back for support so that he could sit but for some reason, his eyes weren't working well for the time being. Heck, he couldn't even turn his head to his side!

"I'm sorry," said the baritone voice beside him. Allen's eyebrows creased. The voice sounded so strangely familiar...

"Were you the one who knocked me?" Allen asked.

All he heard was a low 'hmm'.

"The one I hit with a bowl?"

Another 'hmm'.

Allen blinked away his confusion and tried to clear his mind. He sighed as he patted the hand supporting his arms and smiled. He was still seeing white, but he talked nevertheless.

Allen knew it was an accident. There was no way that a stranger would ever punch him dead for no reason. Moreover, before the knuckles connect to his face, he heard him shouted at him,_"Dodge, you fucking idiot!"_

Allen cringed upon remembering the somewhat crude name he called him.

Allen sighed again.

It was his fault anyway. Blame it to his clumsiness and excitement to eat mitarashi dango.

He smiled and said, "Don't worry about it. I'm sorry too for hitting you. I really didn't mean it. It was an accident. Swear to God," then, he reach his hand and ruffled what he believed was the person's hair, feeling an obvious lump growing on his scalp and smiled again. "Whoa... this is really a big bump. I'm really sorry."

Before he could move away his hand, another one caught it and Allen felt it squeezed him, enough to send shivers to his spine.

Allen can feel a warm wind touching his nose.

Weird.

He thought the room was air-conditioned.

"Y-yes?" He asked when the hand remained still tightly, but gently wrapped on his, not really aware that two inches from his face, a handsome visage was gaping at him – too closely.

The voice spoke again. "You can't see me?"

Allen blinked again. "Uhm... Unfortunately... no." He said, slowly dragging his arms. "But don't worry, it'll be alright after a minute or two. I'm just slightly disoriented, that's all."

The man was still holding his arms.

Allen tried to pull it again.

Futile. He was still holding it.

Allen blinked again, almost cursing his still disoriented eyes.

"You're eyes are still gray." Allen heard the man said.

What?

"Uhm, yeah... I was born with gray e-eyes, you see..." Allen smiled, though it was laden with lump of awkwardness slowly building inside him.

What kind of conversation was this?

_Still._

Wait.

Still?

"W-wait, do I know you?" He asked, not sure if that an intelligent thing to ask. But the voice sounded really familiar and it seemed like he knew him based on his question.

Maybe it was an old friend?

Mana and Allen annually visited Japan when he was still a kid and he could remember that he met a few kids his age and befriend them.

Maybe he was one of them?

When the voice didn't respond, Allen hesitated a bit.

"I-I'm sorry if I don't remember, but –"

Allen, in the middle of his words, felt a warm and wet thing invaded his mouth and for a moment, he could swear that he stopped breathing. And when the halted activity of his lungs finally resumed, he was bombarded with sweet smell of tea leaves and mint. His mouth was again, assaulted, by the frivolous and unknown muscle twirling inside him, that seemed like memorizing every crevices of his mouth.

It took him a moment to realize that it was a human tongue and the mysterious person who knocked him hours ago was now bloody French kissing him!

Allen eyes widened.

The mysterious voice's owner was a... man... right?

"Ummmp!"

..

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..

_How you changed my world you'll never know__  
><em>I'm different now, you helped me grow<em>  
><em>You came into my life sent from above<em>  
><em>When I lost all hope you showed me love<em>  
><em>I'm checkin' for ya boy you're right on time<em>  
><em>Angel of Mine<em>_

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	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

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There were two things that were bringing Allen immense worry at this point of his life.

Firstly, he didn't know that a kiss could be so amazing – breathtaking even – both literally and figuratively.

Secondly, he really didn't know how to push the arms now coiled on his back, bringing him more closely to those enticing lips that were currently harassing his already harassed maw.

Really.

He should be freaking out right now, right?

Right.

Well, he was freaking out, alright. But not freaking out freaking out.

If you know what that meant.

"Bmmp!" Was all he could utter when his mouth was held being captivated, rather shamelessly, like this. He really tried to break the allegedly kiss, thinking that maybe he really wasn't the one who needed _serious _medical attention right now and that this strange, scary man was the one who should be lying on the bed and not Allen.

"Sp-op!" He was starting to lose his breath. "Mmmp!"

When, finally, his lips were released by that gravity-defying onslaught, his left hand flew right on the man's cheeks, tinting it red.

Allen was breathing so hard, his eyes were still widening in shock... and pleasur – _distress_.

He was clearly, unmistakably distressed.

Allen could still feel his lips tingling.

It made him shiver.

"W-what do you thinking a-are you d-doing?" Still heavily flustered and out of breath, Allen finally managed to say, his lips were quivering. "You bloody k-kissed me, y-you supercilious j-jerk!"

Kanda remained placid stoic.

Allen glowered at the sight.

More huffing were heard in the air before the flustered Allen suddenly jumped out from the bed and hurriedly ran to his only salvation – the door.

But before he could turn the knob, his hand was stopped by a bigger one, almost covering his small hand.

"Sorry," the man said, voice was calm and composed. "I am sorry for scaring you like that," he stopped for a while and gripped Allen's hand firmly, "though I am not sorry for the kiss earlier."

A violent blush crept on Allen's face.

"You –!" his words were suddenly cut off when suddenly, he felt his feet leaving the ground.

The man just carried him to his shoulder like a big sack of rice!

"H-Hey! What the bloody hell are you doing?" He shouted, flailing like he had never flailed before. "Put me down! Put me down this instant!"

"You are still disoriented. You need to rest," Kanda stated as he brought Allen again on the bed.

Allen, after he had been put on the bed again, stared at Kanda with mix of shock and repulsion.

"Sleep," Kanda ordered while he sat a chair beside the bed. "If you don't, I won't mind kissing you again. Trust me."

Allen felt his mouth fell hard on the ground.

"Or is it that you really want my kiss again that badly, huh?"

Allen growled rather childishly and instantaneously hid beneath the white covers. Kanda saw the sudden reddening of the man's face before it was finally concealed under the blanket.

He smiled.

Allen was still so cute, Kanda thought.

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**TBC**

**Author's Note: **Pardon the shortness of this chapter. The next chapter will probably be the last. Thanks for reading up until now!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DGM, believe me!

**Warning/s:** Awkward grammar and some n_on_-_explicit_ depictions of sexual behavior (will the Administrators ban my story for this? SIGH).

**Author's Note:** I want to deeply apologize for my two-month absence.

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Allen felt like he slept for almost a thousand years. He felt so soggy and tired from too much sleeping, but his eyes just won't bloody open. What the hell was wrong with him? He should be working by now and not slumbering like a bloody slothful weasel.

_Open your eyes, Allen Walker._

_Damn it. _

He tried to move his body, but it seemed like it was only his consciousness that was awake, thank you very much. He tried and tried again, pushing himself to bloody wake up only to find himself floating – literally – on top of his own freaking body.

Bloody hell.

Allen's eyes widened in shock as stared at his bloody unconcious body from above, mouth was gaping wide, his heart was palpitating twice the normal.

Shit. Did he just separate his soul from his body?

_Damn you, Allen Walker! What did you just do?_

And then, the frantic moving began.

He moved – _hovered _– above his body. Allen tried pushing himself again inside _him_, but all his efforts were futile because he remained trapped outside, unable to enter his body again.

He didn't know what to do anymore.

He had heard about Out of the Body Experiences (OBE) before but never had he imagined that he would experience it himself.

He trembled in fright when he thought about not going back.

His Dad, he would miss his Dad... and Lenalee, he would deeply regret not confessing to her.

He didn't want to die yet!

_Wake up, you bloody arse!_

He wanted to thrash his body so that he would wake up, but he couldn't even materialize himself.

Stupid, stupid thought.

Of course, he couldn't. He was a ghost!

Or it seemed like it.

And then the door opened.

Allen swished his head to the guest and his mouth almost banged on the floor when he recognized who it was.

And then it all became clear to him.

He was visiting a top notch publication house in Japan when he accidentally hit a man whose hair was longer than Lenalee with bowl. Afterwards, he remembered passing out because of an unexplainable pain on his face.

When he woke up, he was informed that he was punched – _accidentally_ according to the culprit.

And then... and then...

Allen's eyes widened.

He was fucking bloody kissed by this bastard!

It was his all bloody fault – all these disasters that was happening to Allen, it was this man's bloody fault!

The long-haired man was coming nearer and nearer to his body.

_Stop!_ Allen tried to block the path towards the bed but the man just passed right through him like he was just some kind of a smoke.

_ Stop I said! Do not come near to me – him – me! That is still me! Hey you –!_

Allen was horrified when the man brushed his cheeks with his thumb like it was the most common thing to do when visiting strangers in the hospital.

_Stop touching him – me! Argh! You bloody bloke! _

Allen thought that was the end of it, but when the man's face slowly advanced closer and closer to his sleeping face; he thought his soul died right there and then.

The pompous man was slowly eating his chops!

_STOP! OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?_

Allen concentrated on his body – _Wake up, me! You'll gonna be rape! _ – and with all of his might, he tried to come back again inside him.

But nothing happened.

Allen helplessly watched his lips being devoured by the long-haired monster, extremely blushing from head to toe because he couldn't really turn his head away.

It was like some kind of force was holding his body firm making sure that he was watching the whole horrible event.

Allen Walker, the only son of Mana Walker, a multi-billionaire that was widely known in the whole world as one of the most richest man ever lived, was being kissed – French kissed – by this portentous, atrocious homosexual.

Maybe he was better off dead.

"Allen... Hey... Wake up, sleeping beauty..." The man muttered, his voice was sinfully husky.

It made Allen trembled.

What was that?

His heart skip a beat when he saw the face the man was making while watching his sleeping face. His mouth was still wet by the kissing and so the man.

"Allen..." the man called again, his hand was running through his wild white locks. "Wake up... I brought you some food."

Allen sighed as he sat in a corner of the room; his eyes were never leaving the face of the stranger.

The man repeatedly called his name, but Allen didn't wake up – and he exactly knew why.

He thought he was already over that phase – that he was already spared.

Well, the doctors said that a blunt trauma might bring it up again.

Allen sighed again as he closed his eyes and remembered when this kind of thing first happened.

It started when he was only seven years old.

Mana told him that he slept for a week without waking up. At first, he couldn't believe it but the sluggish feeling he felt upon waking up suggested the long inactivity of his body.

Mana's eyes were all red, too, probably because of incessant crying.

Fear and anxiety clouded his father's and their whole family when Allen was diagnosed with a rare disorder. The doctors said that Allen had a Kleine-Levin Syndrome, a neurological disorder that was characterized by excessive amounts of sleeping and eating.

For months, or sometimes week, Allen continued to sleep. He would always wake up but it never diluted the terror that wrapped their family for years.

They function daily with the frightful reality that he could become sick again at any moment.

It affected his studying, his regular routines, and his childhood.

His dreams became weirder and weirder each day.

Then he was transferred to Japan for a few years for recuperation. His Grandfather told his father that the air in Japan might help his condition.

That was when he first saw that man who was always kneeling from his dreams. From then on, the stranger kept on reappearing to his dreams.

While inside his dreams, the unknown man became his constant companion for God knows how long.

And then his hypersomnia stopped.

It never happened again since he was fourteen years old and so all of them thought, even his doctors, that his _phase_ just withered away.

They all wanted to believe that.

Allen very much wanted to believe that.

But the man kept on invading his nights. He never told it to Mana because deep inside him, he knew that the man in his dreams wasn't dangerous.

Afterwards, Allen would realize that the man couldn't even see him.

He just kept on praying, kneeling for hours and hours while Allen was watching him from afar.

Suddenly, he realized that this was the first time that his soul wandered away from his body. Whenever he was in deep slumber, he would continue to stay inside his dream that sometimes; Allen would think that his dream was his reality.

However, because of the mysterious man in his dreams, he stayed afloat. He helped him to distinguish his dreams from his reality.

He blinked his eyes when he heard someone yelled his name.

Oh. He remembered that he was still inside the room with the long haired pervert and freak.

Allen watched the long haired man inside the room began to panic when Allen wasn't responding to his calls.

The Albino embraced his knees as he watched the scene in front of him like he was watching some soap opera where the sickly patient was slowly succumbing to his death.

The funny thing was, he was imagining the pervert who kissed his unmoving body as someone with great importance to the patient – and that was supposedly him.

Maybe he was the patient's brother.

Or maybe a close relative.

Or a best friend.

Allen rested his head on the wall; his eyes were never leaving the tall man hovering his bed. He was shaking his body so hard that he had to wince thinking if he was awake, that would really hurt.

He wanted to smack the long haired freak for that.

But he looked so bloody concerned and frightened. He kept on calling his name frantically, his voice was shaking. He was yelling at the nurses who came a minute late – obscenities, Allen found out, was the man's specialty. He made all the nurses scampering in the room; their faces were all pale and afraid.

A smile was lit on Allen's face.

It wasn't so bad being able to watch people worrying about him once in a while, he realized.

..

..

..

Kanda could almost hear his heart beating so loud.

It was as if it was now sitting somewhere on the bed and not in the comfort of his ribs inside his chest.

Allen wouldn't just fucking wake up!

"Allen!" He tried shaking him again. He was shaking him for the last ten minutes but the man wouldn't just open his eyes, anything! He could bark at him again for kissing him a while ago, punch him in the gut, or just yell anything with word 'bloody' in it.

But Allen remained motionless.

The loud beating of his heart doubled when he imagined Allen's heart as still as his body. He immediately placed his ears on the man's chest and listened carefully, noting for any sound of a beating heart. He sighed in relief when he heard the slow beating echoing inside, albeit hushed.

He stared at Allen again; his eyes were focusing on those wet, supple lips he just tasted a while ago.

Kanda gritted his teeth thinking if it was some kind of a joke. Here he was, fuckingly happy that Allen was here again, back in his arms. He told himself he wouldn't let the man go again, or fade away for that matter.

"Allen..." He called his name again, hoping it would reach him in some way.

He yelled when the nurses came, complaining about their slow action in emergencies. He glared at them one by one, making sure that he conveyed his detestation very well.

..

..

..

When Allen was eighteen years old, Mana had bought him a book about a young medical resident whose soul wandered away from his body right after her accident. Her body remained in coma for years and years. She continued living with her family, walking down the park every afternoon, but the only difference was that nobody could see her and that made her sadder and sadder each day.

Allen thought about it now, and somehow, it made him sad, too.

He could see the people who care for him get worried over his unmoving body. They were so close and yet he couldn't even tell them not to worry so much because he was okay, or at least that was what he wanted to believe in.

Every day, without fail, the strange man would always visit him in the hospital, almost refusing to leave.

Mana, who was touring in Africa, had to cancel all his business trips and abandoned his responsibilities to dropped in Japan to check his only son's condition. His grandfather was looking miserable, too. He had never seen them so sad.

Did they all look like this whenever he would fall into deep slumber without waking up for months?

He saw his father cry, his grandfather on his side was weeping, too. Allen had to avert his eyes and cry in a corner when no one could see him.

He had never seen Mana cried so hard before.

They were holding his body like a fragile glass that could break anytime. All his life, Allen was treated like a spoiled little prince. Mana told him that he never had to do anything – that he just have to enjoy his life, make the most out of it, and stay healthy always.

He never liked that.

He wanted to do something that would make his family be proud of him.

He ducked his head inside in between of his knees and wept, too. His heart felt like shrinking. He felt bad. He promised to himself he would never make his father worried again. He promised to himself that he would make him happy as much as possible.

Allen wanted to thrash and wail. It was as if he turned into a teenager again.

He wished that he just stayed inside his dream, no matter how selfish it may seem.

..

..

..

Days turned into weeks. It was already the fourth week since Allen went to a deep slumber. The doctors said it was a rare disorder.

Kanda remained positive.

At least, Allen was alive. He was with him.

He met Allen's father, too.

Kanda thought he would blame him for what happened to his son. He was after all the cause of all of this. Because of him, Allen's long time disorder resurfaced again.

For the second time in his life, he felt so fucking afraid. Afraid that Allen's father would forbid him from seeing Allen. He felt helpless and weak.

And then, one day, he felt the man's hand on his shoulder and with a smile, he said; "thank you for being there for my son".

Kanda thought that the Gods didn't abandoned Allen after all.

They had given him a good life and a good family that would take care of him no matter what happened.

They had given Allen a good and understanding father and for that, Kanda was thankful.

He didn't really know what or how it happened, or why Allen was living as a human again, heck, he didn't even wanted to know how, or why. He knew it would be so complicated anyway and besides, there were just things in life that you wouldn't be able to find answers to no matter how hard you seek. Sometimes, things just happened and you were not supposed to question them, but to just accept, be thankful if it was something good, and learn from it if it was something heartbreaking. Kanda didn't know what was the purpose of all that was happening to him – but there was only one thing that he knew; Somebody did listen to him up there when he was praying all these years.

..

..

..

Allen was listening. Well, what the bloody hell could he do besides from watching people and listening to them? He tried talking to them, too, you know. He shouted, he rolled on the floor to catch their attention, he even jumped from the twentieth floor to caught Mana and the pervert's attention, but it was all futile. All he gained was a large bruise on his butt. (By the way, Allen learned that he couldn't really fly. He could hover for a few seconds like he was floating, but to literally fly? No, sir, ma'am. He bloody couldn't.) Nobody could see him and bloody hell, he could walk naked on the hallways without worrying about women shrieking and kids crying.

Well, let's go back to him listening, alright?

Allen was listened at the other side of his room's loo. Kanda (He learned the pervert's name when Mana talked to him the other night. His other name, (Allen was guessing it was his first name) was so weird it made him laugh, really. It was 'You". How weird was that? And then he realized that since he was pure Japanese, his name would probably spell like 'Yuu' or 'Yu'. Well, it was still weird anyway. He couldn't imagine his parents or his friends calling him, 'You!') entered twenty minutes ago inside. The funny thing was, Allen could hear faint groans from the inside and he was now idly wondering if the man's stomach was upset or something. He knew that it was dire to listen to somebody while doing his _business _but Allen just couldn't tore his ears away from the door.

He looked stupid, if you'd ask him.

_"Hah..."_

Allen's eyes widened. There. He heard that groan again. Was his stomach really that bad? Well then, he should drink some medicine for that. And he was using _his_ toilet after all. Wouldn't it be bad if the smell was carried in the air to his unmoving body?

What if he woke up from the smell?

Allen's nose scrunched.

God, that would be a terrible way to wake up.

He continued to listen; his eyes were glistening in curiosity.

And then he heard it. Faint, but he heard it clear.

"_Allen... haah... Allen..."_

And then it hit him.

Hard.

He blushed so bloody hard he could be mistaken for a ripe tomato.

He immediately flew away from his room while shouting these words:

"YOU BLOODY QUEER! PERVERT! PERVERT! ARRRGHHH!"

Allen had never been so ashamed in his entire life.

..

..

..

**Author's Note (2): **Okay, you guys win. I was really planning on ending it here in Chapter 5, but for some reason, I just couldn't, not while there were so many plot holes laughing and making their way to my mind. I just couldn't leave it with a half assed ending leaving you all heartbroken and angry at me. I don't you guys throwing me tomatoes and such.

Thank you so much for reading, and maybe you can also review, too. You know, just to let me know if I should really continue this or just leave it like that. You guys are my boss.

Again, thank you.

**Another note:** By the way, please read the 'Petition' whatnots on my profile. Administrators are now taking down stories with mature contents. I had never have the chance to write Fanfics with M rating (as you all know) but they've taken down two of my stories (I rated them K+ (maybe I should just rated them with 'T', darn) because of few swearing (It's Kanda, that would probably give you an overall idea why I had to use foul languages) last May 29. Some of my favorite stories are in grave danger and I guess that makes all of us.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DGM.

**Waning/s:** Unbeta'ed. Awkward grammar. Short chapter.

**Author's Note: **I can't seem to stop now. I'll try to update again next week because I know that this is so short and I feel bad that I have to post a short chapter when I haven't updated in like, two months... I am terribly sorry.

Please enjoy reading.

And review!

..

..

..

_"What I mean is, I love winter, and when you really love something,_

_then it loves you back, in whatever way it has to love."_

— John Knowles, _A Separate Peace_

..

..

..

Allen's knees were bent to his chest, his eyes were following a seven-year-old boy who had a chronic asthma (based on what he heard from his doctor).The boy was wiggling his feet from the bed he was sitting, his eyes were never leaving Allen.

He was playing a staring game with him.

Or the corner where Allen was seated.

He tilted his head and Allen raised his eyebrow.

C'mon. He already knew that no one could see him in his current state. Maybe the kid was just spacing out and he decided to space out while staring at a dim corner of his room while his mother, a very beautiful young woman, was crying on his bed.

Allen stood, feeling guilty from his prying over other people's problem, but when you were invisible, it was just a little too hard to feel accountable especially if you know that no one could really see you.

What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them, right?

..

This was how Allen usually spend his mornings in the hospital. He walked and walked and walked until he could feel his legs numbing. Surprisingly though, he couldn't really call it 'being tired'. He could walk the whole day but what he could only feel was the numbing of his legs and that, he believed, could be hardly called weariness.

One thing he noticed though was the paleness of his lifeless body on the bed. Day after day, he could see how his paleness was growing and that, in its way, was scary enough to fright the shit out of him.

What if he couldn't go inside his body anymore?

What if he died in his sleep and his soul or what was remained of him stayed behind in this hospital for God knows how long?

Allen remained optimistic nonetheless.

Mana wouldn't leave him and he certainly wouldn't leave his father.

In the past six months that he spent here in the hospital, he had learned how many people loved him and how they were all praying for his Godspeed recovery.

He saw most of them crying while squeezing his insipid hand.

And most of all, a certain man didn't leave him since the very beginning.

Kanda Yuu remained glued to his side, more often than Allen himself.

It was kind of annoying sometimes, but most of the time, he was thankful to him, and the animosity he felt towards the young man slowly ebbed away as time passed by.

He was always talking to him, his stories were never ending. Mana was thankful to him, too. Because of Kanda, his father could take a day or two to rest and still be assured that his son was being taken care of.

The only thing that ticked Allen off was the young man's regular tossing off–

using_ him_.

His name, that is.

Well, Allen could understand that Kanda Yuu was also a man, and a man had his own needs. But jerking off inside his room where his inept body was lying was in no way morally acceptable!

Allen tried bashing the man with his ghostly body whenever he would start his regular _session_ but it was futile.

He just couldn't understand it.

Why call his name, an obviously_ straight_ male, while doing _that_? He could have use any woman's names or any porn magazine with lots of soft, wiggly women's body parts on it and Allen would even root for him.

But why the bloody hell would he use _his _name?

It also didn't help Allen's current situation when he started to feel something weird and warm in his body (especially down there) whenever he could not avoid listening to Kanda while he was doing his _business_ inside the bathroom.

The first time it happened, Allen was so shocked and ashamed of himself that he impulsively whacked his poor, poor _thing_ off that immediately sent him in the deepest pits of hell.

His colossal hate for Kanda came back in full throttle after that.

..

The kid was staring at him again.

Or at the chair he was sitting on.

Allen shook his head as he observed the same seven-year-old kid he saw a week ago in the hospital. It looked like he was confined here as the doctors continued to observe his condition. The weird thing was, he always caught him looking at him (or at the places where he usually hang out) whenever their paths would crossed.

It was just kind of weird given the fact that he, Allen Walker, was invisible.

Or so he thought.

He had his own speculations, but he dared not to make himself hopeful. He had always known that nothing good could ever come out from false expectations. That was why that day, when he finally proved his hopeful assumptions were right, he almost jumped out of the kid's window and shouted in unreserved delight.

Why?

Because for some miraculous reason, the kid could see him.

"Are you stoned or something?" the kid deadpanned. "You kept on wiggling your ass since the first time saw I you here."

Oh, yes. Allen was in utter bliss.

..

..

..

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DGM.

**Warning/s:** Short chapter. Unbeta'ed. Please pardon all the grammar abomination that you might find. I shall reread this again once I get home and do some refurbishing.

..

..

..

_"Sometimes I wish I never had to sleep. _

_Sometimes I think that if I stay very, very still, if I never move at all, things will change._

_I think if I freeze myself I can freeze the pain. _

_Sometimes I won't move for hours._

_I will not move an inch. _

_If time stands still nothing can go wrong."_

— Tahereh Mafi, _Shatter Me_

..

..

..

"_You are interfering with destiny again, Aisa."_

_The figure shifted upon hearing the voice and sadly smiled. _

"_He needs my help now, Lachesis..."_

"_He's a human now. He doesn't need your help anymore."_

"_I know... but..."_

"_You made him human, Aisa. Don't forget that."_

"_But he is suffering... He is pleading for help..."_

"_A human's life consists of myriad of torments."_

_The figure clutched his chest. "Nobody had ever experience suffering more than he did, Lachesis. He had __already__suffered more than__anyone else."_

"_There is Someone much higher than Life itself threading his destiny. We cannot always interfere and you know that," Lachesis said._

"_I know. But it doesn't mean I can't do anything about it."_

_Lachesis grinned. _

"_He'll hate you if he ever found out you are messing with his 'life'. _

"_Well, it is the first he'll be truly living his life, so I want it to be perfect," Aisa said, smiling. "And besides, I can't really allow my brother be all alone again, Lachesis."_

"_You're spoiling him too much."_

"_He's worth it, Lachesis. He's worth it all."_

_.._

"You can see me!" Allen shouted gleefully. Someone could see him! He could probably use this kid to talk to Mana and tell him he was alright.

The kid scrunched his nose. "Of course I can see you. Do not tell me you are really stoned, nii-chan."

"Stoned?" Allen blinked and howled. "Nooo! No! Of course not!" He tried to smile, trying not to frighten the boy.

The boy just eyed him curiously. "Why are you wearing the same clothes every day?" he then approached Allen, his fingers were outstretched to touch him and he immediately backed away.

The kid could see him, yes, but Allen couldn't say the same thing with touching him.

What if those fingers went right through his body?

That would definitely scare the kid.

He couldn't afford that. Not when he finally found someone who could see and talk to him.

"I am s-sick, so I guess it'll be bad if you catch my cold," he said, awkwardly smiling. He was really never good in lying... but...

The kid stared at him for a few seconds and backed away. He sat on his bed again and pursed his lips.

"You're weird", he said, frowning, but did not insisted again.

_Yes! He believed it!_

Allen just smiled. "I know," he said. He ruffled the boy's hair.

A small smile lit on the boy's face, tilting his head more towards the warmth that was Allen's hand.

..

Every day, the boy would talk to him endlessly about everything he deemed interesting. He was such a talkative boy and so Allen couldn't understand why he was so silent when his mother was around.

Overall, he was a sweet little boy.

He was a little sarcastic for a little boy, though, and somehow, it oddly reminded him of something. Something he couldn't really remember right now.

"Where is your mother?" he asked him one day.

Allen stared at him for a moment. "She's not here anymore," he said.

Allen wasn't expected him to understand it, but bloody hell, he did.

The kid blinked at him and bended his head over as if ashamed, "I'm sorry..."

For some reason, this made Allen happy.

He ruffled that soft hair again, beaming.

"It's alright," he said. "I still have my father and I know she's already happy wherever she is right now."

..

"Why is your hair white?"

Allen paused. "Is it too unusual?" He asked, his fingers automatically found their way into his locks.

The kid nodded his head. "But it looks good on you, so I guess it's alright."

Allen laughed. "You sure know how to give compliments, huh."

The boy unexpectedly blushed. "I don't like lying," he said not looking at him.

It was now Allen's turn to feel embarrassed.

He smacked the lightly on the head, looking away, too. "S-stupid..."

The kid shyly looked up. "Is it natural?"

"It is."

"How?"

"Blame it to my albinism."

"What is 'albinism'?"

"You'll know when you get older."

..

Allen didn't know that talking this much was so invigorating. Maybe because he didn't talk that much before that he was now seeing the activity in a different light.

Or maybe the kid was just so much fun to talk to that he was enjoying it so much.

Allen was not a snub. He was, in fact, a very warm person.

But he just didn't really fancy talking about himself. Whenever he talked, it seldom about his life. It was always about his friends, or his family, or his job.

It was always about other people.

And he was perfectly fine with it.

His original plan of using the kid to talk to Mana eventually faded away.

The thought of scaring him was like a thin knife slicing through his chest.

He would definitely be afraid of him, and their daily chatting would surely come to an end.

Allen didn't want that to happen.

"Are you happy?"

There was that question again.

Allen looked down at the kid sitting on his side while watching the sun go down on the rooftop of the building. The kid's beautiful midnight hair was dancing together with the melancholy air.

It was quite a sight.

Allen chuckled.

"Of course I am."

"You sometimes look like you're thinking about something so painful."

Allen was taken aback by the sudden remark. His gaze softened and he smiled. After some time, he let his eyes close for a while, feeling the lovely and cold feeling of the air on his face.

"Well, grown ups have many things to think about," he said, taking in the nice feeling of the damp wind.

"Painful things?"

"Some of them are rather painful, yes."

"If you know that you are just going to be hurt by thinking about them, then why are you still doing it?"

Allen looked down and smiled. "Because abandoning your problems won't really make them go away."

"I don't understand."

The white haired man just grinned. "Well, you don't have to. Not until you are ready, I suppose."

..

"You don't eat that much, don't you?"

Allen didn't have anything to say to that. What, should he confess to him that he no longer feel the need to eat not when he didn't even know what he was right now or if he could even go back to his body after all that had happened?

The white haired man gulped for a moment and think.

"I'm on a diet," he lousily said, hoping the kid would buy it.

His eyes reduced to slits, his nose scrunched again.

"Skinny people should not go on a diet."

He was skinny? Allen pondered for a second.

"You'll just get sicker than you already are..." the boy added, worry was written all over his face.

Allen felt bad lying to him.

"Yeah..." he whispered, forcing a smiled on his face. "Sorry."

The boy just smiled. "It's alright. As long as you understand it."

He was wearing the usual hospital robe just like Allen, but his pajama was missing.

"Where's your pants?" Allen asked, idly wondering.

"In the laundry. I am wearing my shorts now," he said as he pulled up his hospital gown, showing him his black short.

"Isn't it cold?"

The boy shook his head. "No. It's fine."

Allen was about to brushed the topic off when he saw something on the kid's half exposed knee.

"Is that a wound?"

The kid looked down on his knees, too. "It used to be."

"Where did you get that?" he asked again, his eyes were scrutinizing the scar. It looked so deep. It must have been painful.

"An accident. My friend was climbing a tree when he suddenly slipped."

"A tree? How come you were the one who got hurt?"

The kid astoundingly chuckled. He looked suddenly so happy when Allen started asking about his friend.

"He was such a klutz that was why. I caught him before his fall and a sharp rock cut my knee when I suddenly fell on the ground, kneeling."

Allen cringed. "That must have been hurt," he exclaimed. "I didn't know you are so brave though."

The kid blushed. "H-he's my friend... so I just did w-what I think was right."

Allen just chucked. He was such a shy, shy boy. "Hai, hai. If the prince said so," he said, amused.

The kid just pouted and he looked down as if he found something interesting lying on the floor.

"What's the name of your friend, by the way?" Allen suddenly asked, clearly curious. If he could make this sometimes expressionless kid smile, then he must be a wonderful and amazing friend.

And truth to be told, the boy really brightened again. His usual apathetic eyes were so lively vivacious that Allen had to stop for a while to stare at him, dumfounded.

_Really... The beauty of friendship, huh?_

He looked really happy when Allen asked.

"His name is Alma," he said.

..

..

..

**TBC**

**Author's Note: **What the hell am I doing to the plot?! Hahaha... I know that that was one ugly cliffhanger, but please bear with me. I have a plan, so don't worry. I know where this story is now going and yes, I am now working on the next chapter. You don't really have to wait that long again. *smiles*

Thank you so much to the following amazing readers who reviewed the last chapter! I always get giddy whenever I read your reviews so please, don't be shy, review and let me know what you think!

Shizaki Kuro

soya-chan

p0l-anka

Chibi-Dears XD

sHirou


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DGM.

**Warning/s:** Unbeta'ed. Yeah, yeah… the usual crap, kiddos.

* * *

><p><em>I'm going to smile, and my smile will sink down into your pupils, <em>

_and heaven knows what it will become._

—Jean-Paul Sartre, _No Exit_

* * *

><p>"You're weird."<p>

It was a fine, fine day up there. The wind was, as usual, blowing daintily —not too cold or warm and the birds were floating rather happily around the golden trees of the palace.

It was a fine, fine day and there was no contest to that.

Then suddenly, the sun that was shining right through his gleaming skin was blocked by a little white haired, nameless deity that was notorious known by being… a waster of time.

"You're weird," the little deity repeated and he scrunched his eyebrows in irritation. "I didn't know a Moira is actually fond of sun. I thought you are all, you know, allergic to it. I saw your brother licked his hand the other day when I tried to expose it to the light," he giggled. "He looked so funny."

"So that was you, huh?" he growled. He remembered hearing his brother cursed repeatedly under his breath the other day when he delivered him water in his room. He was spewing something about a little white haired nuisance that kept on showering him unsolicited attention whenever he was resting on his favorite tree every afternoon.

"What do you want?" he asked irritatingly.

The little busybody grinned at him much to his surprise.

"Why are you… grinning?" he was irked. It was his first time living here in the place and he already didn't like the place — all thanks to this guy.

"Nothing in particular," the deity smiled again. "I just want to see you up close. You see, everyone was excitedly talking about you the other day and they were all saying many things about you."

_So, they were all talking about the late bloomer deity of Fates, huh?_ He thought irately.

"They were all saying how cool you are!"

Huh?

"You really haven't started on your duty up here, right? Officially—at least," he giggled. "And that was so cool! The Moirai's are supposed to be working together all the time but you still managed to do your work as part of the three even if you are away from them and here in the palace."

Wait—

"And then I saw you last week in your carriage. You were clad in your regal blue robe and your hair's being blown so elegantly! You looked so beautiful! And then when you first set your foot here, suddenly everything became so silent and I could see everyone staring at you in wonder and admiration! I haven't seen them so taken aback before, you know."

What the hell was this pipsqueak talking about?

He didn't even understand half of what he was saying.

"And didn't you hear?"

He was startled when he suddenly saw his face just a few inches away from him.

He almost got knocked down on the ground.

"Didn't h-hear what?"

The white haired deity grinned so wide.

And he almost regretted asking.

"We're going to be classmates!"

"—huh?"

* * *

><p>..<p>

"What was the meaning of this, Aisa?"

Aisa, who was busy repairing her old, golden hat glanced on his incensed young brother and smiled.

"Clotho. Do you have some business with me?"

"What was the meaning of _that_?"

"What is exactly is _that_, brother?"

"_That_! He suddenly came to me while I was resting outside my room and before I knew it, I already wasted half of my precious day listening to him talk mindlessly—_that_!"

Aisa knowingly smiled. "Oh. It sounds so familiar. Lachesis was talking about _that _the other day too, you know?"

"I have no time for this!"

"We all have time for everything, Clotho…"

"Well, I don't! I am here for my job!" he irritatingly said. "That is the reason why I came here personally and you know that. And what did he mean by saying we're going to be classmates, anyway? Almost all of his blabbering doesn't make sense to me!"

"It means you two are going to the same class?"

Clotho squinted his eyes. "Class?"

"Yes."

"What class?"

"The I-am-new-here-so-I-still-have-a-lot-of-things-to-understand class?"

"Haha. That was so amusing, Aisa."

The Moira smiled before bowing before him. "I am so honored in hearing that, my precious little brother."

Clotho blushed as he looked down on his feet and muttered something.

Aisa looked at the little Moira. "Did you say something, Clotho?"

"I said, this is ridiculous!" he shouted before running away from his sister's room to his own quarter inside the palace.

He buried his head on his pillow and there he shouted all of his pent up frustrations.

* * *

><p>..<p>

"This is so fun! Look! They are flying so high!" the white deity was bouncing again on his feet as if he had some kind of spring attached on them. "Look!"

"They are flying so high because you are scaring them, stupid," he muttered to himself, deadpanned. He was downright exhausted. Studying the long history of threading destiny was so exhausting that it was draining his energy. Not to mention that he still had to deal with this white haired energetic fellow bouncing right in front of him.

Until now, the little deity was still an enigma to him.

He wondered what kind of duty he had up here and—

Wait…

"Hey," he called on to him.

He turned around him, smiling. "The name's Allen, not 'hey'. But I'll forgive you now since you didn't really know my name back then. So, what is it?"

Clotho's eyes rolled in frustration.

_Whatever, dolt._

He stared at him for a while, inspecting his immaculate robe that he was wearing when he first saw him in the garden. He didn't look like he was some kind of a lower ranked deity but he didn't look like he was one of the main Gods either.

"Why are you studying with me? I mean, you're not one of the Moirai's, you know. There are only three of us. So, why study the threading of human's destiny? What are you really, anyway? I haven't seen anyone like you before," he stopped as he glanced on the deity from head to toe. "You're different. I could feel that. But what is your purpose exactly? Why are you here?"

The three of them, the Moirai's, were especial. They were the ones who decide about the overall destiny of a person and even a God or a Goddess. They were the ones who decide who shall live and how long one should live. His sister, Aisa, was the one who cut a human or a God's thread. His brother, Lachesis, was the one who measure how long one would live. Thirty human years, or thousands of years for Gods — it all depends on him.

And he was Clotho, the _spinner_. He was the one who spin one's life. He was the one responsible for every living life on Earth and as well as up here.

The threading of fates was their job. That was why he couldn't understand what was a meager deity doing studying it with him.

The white haired deity, Allen, looked up to him with such big, clear eyes that Clotho almost forgot how to breathe. Something was pulling him to the small deity and yet he didn't know what it was.

"You're thinking too hard about this, you know?" was all he said before smiling at him like he usually do. He was about to return to his hopping and galloping, and scaring the butterflies soaring at the open air when Clotho shouted again.

"Hey!"

The deity stopped and looked at him again. This time, he wasn't smiling at all. He looked kind of irritated if you would ask him though he wasn't really sure about that.

"I told you, it was 'Allen', not 'hey'," he said.

Somehow, knowing that there was other emotion inside the deity other than cheerfulness and joviality made Clotho smiled inwardly.

_He's pissed_, he told himself, grinning.

"You're one to talk," he said, feeling alleviated. It was strange. It was the first time he felt that. "You haven't even called me in my name, you know."

The deity stopped and he looked like he was thinking about what he said.

It made him smirked.

"Your name's kind of weird and — " he started.

Clotho's mouth gaped, unbelievably stunned.

"—I'm not comfortable in calling you using that."

Weird, he said? His name was _weird_?

"Weird? You think my name's weird?!" he asked, indignant. His eyes were widening in disbelief and he couldn't think straight.

Weird? It was the first time he had been called 'weird' and it wasn't a nice feeling.

"I have an idea," he said just when he was about to lashed out on him by calling his prized name, _weird_. Clotho stopped as he was taken aback by the smile that was etched on Allen's face.

"You know, I love rice," he said giggling.

"Do I look like I care about your favorite food?" Clotho said, grinding his teeth.

"And humans grow their crops in Mitoshiro."

"You are not listening to me, aren't you?"

"So, I'll give you a new name. It'll be — "

"I don't want another name coming from you! Are you even listening to m — "

"—Kanda."

Clotho stopped as he stared at the smiling deity in front of him.

"Do you like it? From now on, I shall call you 'Kanda'."

He continued to stare at Allen for Gods knew how long. He couldn't understand the mighty pounding he was feeling inside his chest and the tightening inside his throat. All he knew was that there was something terribly familiar about that name and fortunately, it didn't really take him too long to understand why.

However, it wasn't until he lost him for good that he truly understood _why_.

It wasn't until he felt that crushing feeling of being left behind that he understood why.

* * *

><p><em>Are you listening?<em>

_Are you there?_

_Are you seeing this?_

_Do you understand why I must do this? Why we must do this?_

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

1. Clotho, the "spinner", spun the thread of life from her distaff onto her spindle. Her Roman equivalent was _Nona_, (the 'Ninth'), who was originally a goddess called upon in the ninth month of pregnancy.

Lachesis, the "allotter" or drawer of lots, measured the thread of life allotted to each person with her measuring rod. Her Roman equivalent was _Decima_ (the 'Tenth').

Atropos, the "inexorable" or "inevitable", literally "unturning", sometimes called Aisa, was the cutter of the thread of life. She chose the manner of each person's death; and when their time was come, she cut their life-thread with "her abhorred shears". Her Roman equivalent was _Morta_ ('Death').

In the Republic of Plato, the three Moirai sing in unison with the music of the Seirenes. Lachesis sings the things that were, Clotho the things that are, and Atropos the things that are to be.

2. A _mitoshiro_ is a divine rice paddy where rice is grown to be offered to the gods. It's written in御戸代 and _shinden_ or _kanda_ (神田) is listed as its synonyms.

Basically, Alma and Kanda (in the real storyline of DGM) are like the rice grown in divine rice paddies as offerings to the Gods.

**Source:** _Wikipedia_

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><p><strong>Author's Notes: <strong>Thank you so much for those people who reviewed the last chapter and I know I've written another crappy chapter again. Heh… Sorry… But don't worry; soon, everything will start to make sense around here.

And I lied, again. I'm sorry… I didn't mean to make to guys wait for like, three months… Life was just too hard for me these days and I don't really get enough motivation from, well, things around me. But, I am not abandoning this story, that I am sure of. So, if you have time, and if it isn't too much of a bother, why don't you let me know what you think about how this story is going right now? That'll make really happy. And who knows? Maybe that will make update much, much faster.

Thank you so much for reading. Until next update!


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** I own none of these characters.

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><p><em>The Beginning<em>

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><p>Billions of years ago, the world had nothing on it but dust.<p>

The planet Earth was void of life.

And it was, as what many people had believed up until now, was the beginning of everything.

...

The three divine siblings, Aisa, Lachesis, and Clotho were given a task to start the life on Earth. Everything was in His plans and the three of them were His tools in marking the start of what we would know later as the very first people who had lived on Earth.

And then, time unhurriedly passed.

People started to appear and slowly, everything had fallen on its rightful place.

Clotho, spun the threads of millions of people, giving birth to humanity. He breathed life into those shakily fingers, their eyes, their hair, their lungs and heart. He was assigned to bestow and maintain their breaths and that he shall do for the rest of their mortal lives.

Lachesis, the allotter, was the one who measure the life allotted to each human. With his powerful rod, Lachesis had been measuring millions of lives every year, giving people their established time that they should astutely spend on Earth.

Aisa, on the other hand, was the God of Death, as what people started to call her existence. She cut the thread of life with her shears and in her hands lie the conclusion of every life on Earth.

Above, the three of them lived in harmony, constantly watching over humans and their daily, sometimes amusing, sometimes cruel activities.

The other gods around were perfectly living with them, too, supporting the three moiras in what they had been assigned to do, never forgetting their roles and obligations as deities.

Everything was perfectly spinning, all according to His plan.

Until that god came along.

They never knew what was the Lord's plan in placing him together with all the gods, most especially around the three moiras... when his existence clearly negated those of the three.

Especially in the sanctified existence of Clotho.

Because the boy, Noah, as what the Lord had been fondly calling him, bore the same ability as that of the youngest moira – the ability to sustain time and the things that were and spun the thread of life from the golden distaff onto the spindle.

Noah, the strange, mysterious boy was another _spinner_ just like Clotho.

...

Clotho's first response to the oddball god was aversion and disinterest. Now, those feelings were not a noble and divine god like him should feel but he couldn't help it. The guy was insufferable. He would talk for hours and hours and he would never listen to him. Every day, he would pester Clotho to get out of his room and would pull him into one of his favorite golden tress to eat the sweet red fruit (in reality, he believed the fruit was an effective toothache-inducing) that was being cultivated by the green fairies of the northern castle.

Clotho had heard so much about the little, green lady monsters and their aversion to trespassers that he knew that they wouldn't be exempted to their repulsion even if they were to learn that he and Noah were basically the pinnacle of all the gods in the area. Spinners, to be exact. Kind of boastful to even think about it, but Clotho was praying he would be, at least, exempted to their famous wrath. He didn't care about his idiotic companion, thought. He could rot on the ground for all he cares. It was his amazing idea after all.

"Good morning, everyone!"

Clotho was suddenly pulled to reality upon hearing that overzealous voice echoed in the serene garden. He looked around and saw hundreds – no, _thousands_ of small but intimidating-looking fairies flying towards them before pathetically flinching and closing his eyes.

"It's Allen!"

"Allen!"

"Nice to see you here again!"

"Hi Allen!"

_Allen?_ Clotho raised his eyebrows. Who were they calling Allen? He slowly opened his eyes and saw them literally swirling around the airhead happily. A lot of them were now sitting on Noah's head while some were clinging onto his white robe. Many of them were on his cheeks; some were even on his nose and lips.

_Are they _– Clotho's eyes widened – _kissing him?!_

Noah glanced at Clotho who was now standing so stiffly in front of him.

He laughed.

"It's their way of greeting me," he chuckled.

"Who is this, Allen?" one particularly beautiful fairy asked, eyeing him with outmost curiosity. "He isn't familiar to us."

Allen guffawed much to Clotho's embarrassment. Was this how they treat an important god like him, really?

"How is that possible? He was an older resident here, much older than me, in fact. He was already here before I came into this place."

The fairies blonde hair glistened. Clotho believed it was a sign of being confused.

"But we don't know him," they responded in unison.

Clotho decided to help himself get out of this embarrassing situation.

"I am Clotho, the spinner," he boldly declared though he made sure he lowered his voice to mask it. He was proud of being a spinner and one of the moiras but this was not his turf and being viewed as a bigheaded and arrogant god was the last thing he wanted.

The fairies gasped and a lot of them flew backward from them. Some of them even recoiled and many closed their eyes.

So they did know him after all.

After that, the two of them were treated like the god they were. They had been given access to thousand acres of delicious fruits, egging them to eat as much as they would like.

But Noah (or Allen, as he noticed the fairies had been calling him since the first time they saw him today) ate so little that he almost asked if he wasn't feeling well.

They were on their way to their home when Allen finally spoke.

"Did you like it?" he asked.

Clotho glanced at him. "If you mean the fruits, then yes." He had been even given a basket of red fruits and Clotho was planning to share them on his siblings when he got home.

"No. The treatment."

Clotho's eyebrows creased. "The treatment? What do you mean the treatment?"

Allen's eyes were clouded. "I don't like it. I never like it." He looked up to him. "Did you like it? They way they recoiled by merely hearing your name?"

"They behaved just fine. At least for me. It's a way of showing their respect to us."

"It was not _respect_. It was _fear_."

"It's the same. You wouldn't respect someone if you don't have even an ounce of fear for that person."

Allen looked at him solemnly and Clotho had to swallow twice like he was trying to remove something down on his throat.

Allen looked so... disappointed.

_Of what?_ He was feeling uncomfortable on the way Allen was behaving.

The god looked like he was about to say something but he stopped and bit his lips.

Then he smiled sadly at him and said, "Let's go back. They are probably looking for you now."

An ache ran through Clotho's chest as he watched Allen walked slowly away from him.

He extended his arms, reaching... reaching...

But Allen didn't look back at him again after that.

**TBC**

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><p><em>Thanks for the awesome reviews. Just to clarify some things, this chapter is where everything really started. Hence, the title, The Beginning<em>._ This is where Allen and Kanda really first met whereas the chapter 9 is the second, and the main story_, _where Kanda is human and Allen is a deity, is the third. :) Till next time!_


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